Skinny Love
by Neverstop13
Summary: Tobias thought he couldn't live without her and now she truly was gone. In his last moments in the Divergent Compoud, he goes to the one place he never thought he would go to: his fear landscape. Tobias copes with Tris' death by breaking the memory and three other fears. Although it's hard, Tris is still there to remind him what's real. *Re-do of story. Rated T for minor swearing.


**I have posted this up before, but I was told that I'd get in trouble for using the lyrics. Copy right issues. Anyways, so I had to delete the lyrics to Skinny Love by Birdy. If you are reading this again or now, I would like you to know that I think that song is perfect for this couple. It inspired me to write this fanfiction and so that is why it's called this and I know you were expecting a song fan fiction, I apologize, but that just can't happen without me getting in trouble.**

**So I was listening to this song (Skinny Love by Birdy) and it really just put my mind to Tris and Tobias. I knew I just had to write something about it and so...yeah; here it is! I love these two together-I think they make the perfect couple of Divergent. I warn you that it is sad.**

**But please, read on. **

* * *

Tobias felt lost. Like there was a deep hole in his chest that someone had dug it out with a knife and then left him there, in the Dauntless compound, to suffer. He walked around and around, trying to free his mind of the thoughts that invaded his mind—the memories of what had happened. He didn't want to think about it and he sure as hell didn't need to; not after witnessing the worst and most terrifying war their world had seen. He came here, out of all places, in the last moments of when the new people burned it down so everyone can live outside the fences with a normal and happy life!

Tobias scoffed bitterly, and a little sluggishly. What they didn't know was that there was still a war going on and they couldn't just drop it to go to this New World. The contents of the bottle in his hand swished from the top. It was said that this drink was supposed to help, but so far it wasn't doing any good except make him drink it more, trapped under its addicting spell. He could still see the flashes burn through his mind. He could barely see the dirty concrete floors beneath him.

He shut his eyes, giving a short scream. He couldn't believe his ears; his father would've punished him feverishly for sounding so desperate.

Tobias found himself stumbling upon the fear room and injecting the needle to enter his fear landscape. It was of instinct to come in here and face his fears. Someone came inside, ushering him to not do that and to come on already—to forget about it.

"Forget about it?!" He thought it was just in his thoughts, but he heard his own words echo off of the graffiti walls. "Don't you see? I can't forget about her!" The Dauntless opened their mouth to answer, but Tobias screamed at them to leave. He had to do this. There was no other way to face it.

When she had died, he put on a mask so that no one could actually see how he felt, although it was obvious, making him feel transparent. The way the people looked at him: he hated pity and he didn't like being looked at with goggle eyes full of distraught. Now, he had to destroy that mask. Tobias knew Tris wouldn't want him to linger over her death, causing him to make unwise decisions.

A shaky hand had opened the box that he left here, knowing he was going to come back some day. Inside were those needles, they welcomed him with wicked grins that reflected in the moon light. Tobias set his jaw, his chest rattling inside of him. It was like he was making an effort to breathe underwater. He couldn't do it, he realized. But he had to. Tris would've told him not to waste his tears on her.

The bottle dropped from his hand, shattering into pieces and leaving an echo in his head. It reminded up of a nostalgic gunshot—the same one that he would never forget, but was trying to. He was familiar with the pain shooting up his leg as the debris crashed into his ankle. With one blurry slip, he found himself on his knees, the box resting on his thighs. Tobias didn't care about the blood rushing down his calves and soaking his sock and his sneaker. His mind was lagging behind but his actions were quick: he took one of the syringe needles and with one look and stifled sob, he plunged it into his outstretched forearm. Hopefully, he thought, that _that_ would be the last needle he would ever have to take.

Tobias' mind felt fuzzy and nothing happened at first. He wondered if they had meddled with these already. But then the room transformed into a dark and dankly room. There was a circle with two people fighting inside of it: Tris and Peter. He remembered not being able to watch any longer because he couldn't bear to see the pain in her eyes. He called out to her, wanting to love her again before she could be gone. But she looked at him and cried, "Help!"

He shook his head, his eyes hurting from widening too large. He slowly turned and backed away at a door that hadn't been there before. He stared at her crying as he reached his hand behind his back, touching the door. Tobias walked through it, entering a room much different than the one before. It was bright and clean. Except for the bathroom in front of him, the pale lights beating down on a pale girl, making her look even more sickly. Her blond hair was stringy as it hung in her face and was caked with blood. Her whole body was caked with blood and sweat and tears as she sobbed, vigorously washing the blood off of her hands and arms. She was hurt, Tobias knew, but there was no source of the wound.

Tobias felt his hands start to shake, sweat tickling his palms. He squeezed them into fists, trying to stop them. He could taste the bile rise in his mouth as he stared at her blood all over the sink and on her slim body.

He stuttered and her head jerked up, staring at him in alarm as if she had just noticed his appearance. Then her expression was filled with alarm and anger. "Tobias! What is wrong with you?! I was hurting and being murdered! You weren't there! You weren't ever there for me!"

He tilted his head, his chin wobbling. Here he was devastated about her and she was yelling at him for not being there for him? "Tris…" He stepped forward, reaching out to still touch her and help her.

She clutched her hand close to her body. "No!" She shrieked. "Don't touch me anymore!"

"But—"

"You've done enough! Don't you see?!" She yelled at him, her voice hoarse. Her blood was splattering onto the white tiled floor.

It was finally pushed into Tobias' mind that this wasn't real at all. These were just his fears and he was Divergent—he could get through them.

"Tobias, you're worthless! You won't help me ever and you don't let me try! Why don't you protect me?!" Tris kept screaming at him, her hair flying around her as she eased toward him. Tears stained her face. "You know I'm too small to deal with this crap! Why aren't you ever there for me?!"

He stepped toward her, gripping her arms and looking into her pale eyes that stared back at him sharply. At the same time, they were hollow, full of nothingness. "You are not real! You are dead, Tris! Because I protected you too much! You are my fear—that I won't ever be able to protect you which is why I promise to myself that I will always be there for you to guard you and help you up! You know that, Tris!"

She stared back at him, her face blank. But Tris couldn't stop her chin from wobbling. She shook her head as she pushed the balls of her fists into his chest and he stumbled out of the bathroom. The white door was shut in his face.

Then Tobias saw a different white. His long fingers and strong arm ruined the white. He eyes looked up and he saw her eyes again. This time, they were wide and alive and her cheeks were bright red. Through his fingers, which were placed right under her ribcage, he could feel her rapid heartbeat. Tobias remembered this moment, when he was still her mentor and before anything had really happened to them.

He remembered all the times he had trained her; touched her; held her hand. The times when he needed her more than anything and she needed him. It was the time when they felt like they owned each other. Tobias could taste her lips and he was in the time when they were in the pit. When they slept in the same bed together. When they cared for each other. The times when they were oblivious to their surroundings because they were too busy looking and caring for each other. He realized that even though she was gone, she was still out there, breaking through his simulation and reminding him what was real and that he had protected her; he protected her with his love.

Tobias' eyes snapped open.

Ahead of him, he saw her again in the middle of a gray hallway with a railing next to them; a catwalk. His heart pounded as she turned and looked at him. She didn't lash out or sneer at him—she just stared.

A grin swept across his face. "Tris!" He cried out and ran to her. "I've missed you so much!" He said as he buried his face into her hair. He kissed the back of her jaw and her neck.

Something's wrong, he thought as he found that no goose bumps raced through her skin. He pulled back just as she stepped away from him, looking at him blankly.

His eyebrows slowly creased together. "What's wrong?"

"What are you doing?" Tris took another step back.

"I…what do you mean?" He was breathless, like someone kicked him hard in the gut.

"You….you…" she trailed off, slapping her hand over her neck, where he had kissed her.

"I love you," he said, the words rolling off his tongue that felt like cotton.

She stepped back, disgusted. "Why would you love me?" she spat.

"Because you love me." He took another step toward her.

"No! I don't love you, Tobias. We couldn't ever because our relationship was nothing."

"How could you say that?!" He asked, his temper rising. Flashbacks flashed through his mind as he thought of the multiple fights they had together during the planning of the attack on Erudite. How they'd glare and get flustered around each other. How they couldn't agree on anything. The lies, the cheating, the secrets. He didn't like it, but they couldn't stop. He didn't like how he hadn't seen her or touched her or kissed her for weeks on end.

"We don't match! When are you going to realize that? What we had was foolish and childish and I regret all of it!"

"I never loved you!" She continued. "You were wrong for me!"

"We were right for each other! I wanted you happy, couldn't you see that? You fulfilled my happiness!"

"You're wrong." She whispered, staring up at him with those same hollowed-out eyes. She stepped back, wringing her hands together. She looked pitiful, but strong and willing at the same time. "I never had happiness with you. You practically killed me, Tobias! I wanted to be killed! The whole time, I wished I was one of those dead bodies lying on the streets!"

"You're right." He said, knowing to manipulate the simulation. To be Divergent once again. "I'm wrong and I never loved you." The words struggled to come out of his mouth, but he had to. He had to conquer the fear. Suddenly, he made a knife appear in his hand. With one swift move, he crossed the distance between them and plunged the knife into her stomach.

A groan escaped from her mouth and she clutched the blade, their fingers grazing with blood. "How could you?" she whimpered.

"You said you wanted to be dead. I fulfilled your happiness." He choked out a sob, but she was already gone and couldn't hear it. It was difficult, but he kept remembering himself that it wasn't real and he could change it. From anger, the knife in his hand suddenly melted and turned into goop in his hand. He uncurled his fingers, turning his palm face-up, seeing a pile of silver dust in his hand. He inhaled a shaky breath and exhaled, blowing it away from his hand like blowing a kiss.

The silver danced in front of him, the fear room changing to a dark room filled with red rust. Fierce winds slapped at his skin, pulling and tugging at his clothes, making a shiver go up his spine. His cheeks felt pasty because it was covered with blood and sweat and tears and dirt. Something trickled down his hairline; probably blood. He found an open space next to him and he saw a landscape of fresh grass that would reach up to his hips; he could see it, but it would leave just as soon because he was in something with wheels and they were moving fast. The feeling made him feel nauseated. It was beautiful except for people running towards him with guns.

An alarm went off in Tobias' head. He remembered this train—it was where _it_ happened not too long ago.

"Tobias," he heard a voice say next to him. He turned, finding Tris standing next to him holding his hand with concern and fear coating her expression and tone.

His mouth went dry, like paper, and he couldn't breathe. He knew what was going to happen but knew he couldn't stop it. A couple of others, like Christina, jumped into the car. Others rain behind, trying to catch up.

"They won't shoot." He had said. "They can't—the war's practically over."

But that wasn't what the traitor's had had in mind. One shot rang throughout the car, piercing the air with arrogance. Tris' chest lurched forward, red liquid spraying from it. She was thrown into his arms with a force he wished had never happened. He caught her, crying out, and he wrapped his arms under hers, gripping her bony shoulder blades. He began yelling, telling her that she was okay. Tobias fell to his knees, bringing her with him and setting her into his lap, holding her spine up with one hand and he placed his hand on the back of her neck. She coughed, blood trickling down her mouth. He felt his heart contract and he wiped it off with his sleeve.

"Tobias," she said weakly.

"Tris, you're going to be okay. You will be okay. Just stay with me." He promised as he pressed his other hand near her sternum and pressed, hoping to stop the bleeding. She yelped, dragging it out with a cry. "I'm sorry!" he heard his voice becoming desperate. "I have to stop the bleeding!" He furiously began to rip off a strip of cloth from his shirt to wrap around her, but his hands were shaking too much.

"No…don't," she held his hand.

"You bastards!" Christina screamed as she shot at them, leaning out of the car door. Bullets ricocheted off of the metal, making a _PING_ noise. Christina threw herself back inside, hiding behind the door like she was taught. The side of her gun pressed against her cheek. She whispered into it, "Please. For Will and Tris." as she closed her eyes. After a deep breath, her brown eyes snapped open. Then, with speed quicker than ever, she whipped back around; holding the handle of the door, and her arm was straight with confidence as she pointed it directly at the people who shot at Tris. There were at least three, but when she pulled back inside, they had all fallen into the grass, their hearts not beating anymore.

Christina's back was pressed to the metal and when she looked at Tris, the blood spreading out along her chest and ribs, her knees buckled, threatening her to fall. The gun slipped from her hand and fell onto the floor with a sharp clatter. She did this so she could clutch the wall behind her.

"I have to," Tobias said. "You're going to live."

"There's no way out of this where I live and you know that! Everyone died for me!"

"And you avenged them!"

"I did. And now I have nothing left to stay here for."

"Me. You have me. And Christina," Tobias said, his chest rattling.

She shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry," She stroked his cheek. His eyebrows rose to his hairline and he slowly pulled in, pressing his mouth to hers.

Tris pulled back. "I'm going to see my family. You'll be okay without me."

Tobias kept his forehead against hers and his chin wobbled. "You know I won't."

"I'll always be with you. No matter what." She placed her palm over the left side of his chest, meaning his heart. "But don't punish yourself; there's no guilt in this." Tris could feel the bullet squeezing its way into her heart. She could also feel the energy draining from her—the blood. She felt numb and like her head was too big for her body to carry. Tris felt disoriented and herself get cold.

"I love you," he said.

She couldn't respond, but she kissed him again.

Then her last breath had been his.

Tobias felt her body go slack in his arms. His eyes squeezed tighter. He could already feel himself slipping from sanity. She was his hope; she was who kept him alive and she was who got him out of bed every morning—or when he actually slept. Now she was gone and he had nothing left in his life. Tobias felt like he should've been the one who died; she had friends and more to live for and he had nothing. He found himself hurting her as his fingernail cut into her skin, pulling her closer. He sucked in a breath and let go of his sharp grip.

"No!" His cries were muffled as he pressed his face against her hair. "You…don't…" there was also nothing he could say.

Christina bit her lip so hard she felt the metallic taste of blood flowing through her teeth. She clamped a hand over her mouth and sobbed. She cried and cried so hard that her lungs were hiccupping to try and catch a breath. Her knees finally gave out and she slid to the floor. Her hair whipped around her face, but she didn't pull it from her eyes.

Who will be mine now? Tobias asked himself. He wondered who he would have next to him; who he would love. The answer was clear to him: there was no one. Nobody in the whole world he lived in could ever replace Beatrice Prior in his life. She was his precious, weak spot. She was someone he couldn't live without.

Now he knew that the enemies never requested for any kind of truce. That was their warning sign, telling them that the war was not over. They meant to get him riled up. But there was one thing they didn't know—it wasn't just him, it was him, Christina, Uriah, Zeke, and everyone else they had. They executed the person they loved and Tobias thought that if it was a war they wanted; for them to fight back, then hell, that's exactly what they were going to get.

Tobias set her against the wall so that he could cover his face with his hands. He cried, letting someone see him cry for the first time. But they weren't Christina's, they were Tris'. He sniffed, unable to resist the sobs. He took one glimpse at her icy blue eyes and snapped them away. He stifled another sob, sliding his palm down his face to wipe away the tears, to clear himself up.

In a raw voice, still not looking back at her, he said, "Tris," an airy laugh leapt from his throat. "Don't look at me like that." His voice cracked.

He heard Christina choke out a noise that sounded like a sob or a pitied laugh.

Tobias could feel his lungs wheezing as he looked at her eyes. They were hollow. He hoped that her death was just for the fear simulation, but no. It was real. He remembered how...lifeless they looked. He couldn't stand it. So Tobias reached over with a shaky hand and slid her eyelids down. That was the last time he ever saw her blue eyes.

He turned away from Tris. He cried, his cries becoming muffled and he when he opened his eyes, he was back in the fear landscape room, the graffiti walls staring back at him. He didn't stop, though. It was uncontrollable. He stumbled to his feet and bent over, feeling like he was going to throw up. But he opened his mouth and sobbed until his throat got raw. He couldn't think about anything except her and her eyes. He wondered if this was how she felt like most times—the urge to tear your hair out and wish that it was all a dream.

Finally, he went off the edge. He didn't sob any longer, he screamed. He knew that he wouldn't have anything left now. How was she supposed to expect him to just move on?

He remembered what she had said: _I will always be with you. No matter what._

He clutched his shirt over his heart, where she had touched him, and he slammed his knees to the ground. A pain shot up his thighs, but he didn't scream. He couldn't scream anymore. He looked down at his numb kneecaps and found that he had landed on the broken glass from his executed bottle of alcohol. He winced, but he clutched his heart still. He wasn't sure what to do now so he instinctively thought. He thought about what his landscape was about—Tris, obviously. He knew that her death was going to be in it, but not all of the other things.

Then it hit him: Tobias had known it all along. She had always been able to change him. And now, she changed his fears. No longer were they his father; she partly helped him get over that one. No longer was it tightly enclosed spaces; she had helped him with that one too when they had both gone into his fear landscape. Not even were heights, which he'd gotten over long before. She had even changed his fears. The number was still the same—four—but they were different:

To see her hurt, to lose her because he couldn't protect her, that she wouldn't love him back, that he wouldn't be able to love or live with her gone.

He gave another short cry, feeling his eyes being sunken in and his body sore and weary. Tobias went through the things he had loved the most about her and went over what she had last said.

He promised that he would keep strong. For Tris, this would then lead a domino effect onto him; to help himself. He reminded himself that there was no other but the Tris he remembered. He told himself that she was still with him and would still help him through his paths he would not know how to get through. Tobias would never forget her.


End file.
